


THEY KNEW

by sfmpco



Series: HE KNEW, SHE KNEW, THEY KNEW [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfmpco/pseuds/sfmpco
Summary: I just wanted to know what happened when they finally came back together.  Please read HE KNEW and SHE KNEW before reading this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to know what happened when they finally came back together. Please read HE KNEW and SHE KNEW before reading this.

 

She laid on his chest, skin to skin, their bodies in coitus with his knees drawn up between her legs, and she closed her eyes and sighed deeply, contentedly.

“Comfortable?” he asked quietly, his voice a deeper rumble than usual.  She responded by sighing deeply.  “Cold?” When she murmured no, his hands began languorous, feather-light strokes along her sides, her back, and down to her buttocks.  She gasped and squirmed a little as her skin responded by rising up in goose flesh.

She had confirmed her pregnancy to him earlier in the day and had come home to find he had prepared a nice meal – or had ordered in.  Regardless, it had been waiting for her, but what she had really wanted was just to be held by him for a while.  Cuddling was not his forte, but he had met her at the door, and his arms were around her immediately as if he had instantly read the clues that that was exactly what she had needed.  She had simply melted into him, and the way she had clung to him told him of her trepidation. “What do you need?” he asked quietly.

“You.” was her response.

It was the first time in their marriage that she had expressed that she truly needed him to be there for her in a deeply emotional way, and he found himself completely attuned to whatever she needed, and what she needed the most, was to be one with him, to be as close as they could possibly be for as long as they could be.  Dinner could wait. 

He put soft music on in the background, some sort of new age piano music that sounded mostly the same to him but was nevertheless soothing.  It was almost like a lullaby, and her occasional deep sighs against his chest revealed how relaxed she had become.  Heartbeat to heartbeat.  Bodies one.  He would make love to her soon, but for the moment there was only the gentle undulation of his hips beneath her.

He knew her pain, her worries, and knew that if he dared to address them at that time, that it would only lead to her tears, and he didn’t want that.  So he chose to address it by not addressing it but rather in being in the moment with her.

“Let’s not tell anyone yet.” She said quietly, but she needn’t have told him that as he already knew she felt that way, and he simply murmured his agreement.

A certain family member might figure it out, but Sherlock would do his best do create distractions, although the distractions themselves could give it all away.  There was no winning with that one.

“Bean.” He finally said.

“No.” She said softly, but she said it in a way that meant her decision was final.

His hands moved to her head and hair, and she felt his soft kiss on the top of her head.  “Pumpkin.”

“No.” She said.

“Peanut?”

“Stop.” She murmured as she put her fingers over his mouth.   

His arms wrapped around her and embraced her warmly.  They remained around her for several minutes as they simply lay together in near silence, but his mind could not let go of his ideas.

“Pinto.”  He nearly blurted.

She raised her head and looked at him.  “You want to nickname our unborn child after a horse breed?”

“Bean.  Pinto bean.  Pinto for short.  Only until we know the sex, and then we’ll give little Pinto a proper name.”  He grinned, genuinely pleased with himself for such an ingenious idea.

“No.” she said again.

He wasn’t going to argue with her, not even disagree, and he simply let the matter drop.  He did, however, pull up the duvet to cover them because although she might not have been cold, he feeling a little chill.

“I’m happy about it.” He finally said, he felt her gasp a little, then sigh in relief, relaxing even further against him.  He embraced her tightly, almost too tightly, in response.  He was sorry he had ever made her feel uncomfortable about having children, but he had been a different man then, and he wanted her to know that time had changed him.  Fatherhood was neither an unwelcome nor foreign idea anymore.  Fatherhood was taking care of her while she grew their child in her body.  It didn’t start when the child was born.  Fatherhood was _now._  

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“A little tired,” she replied.  “That was more of a clue to me than anything.”

“Morning sickness?”

“No, not yet.” She said.

“Unusual cravings?”

“I’ll let you know.” She insisted. 

As if on cue, her stomach growled, and they both shared a brief giggle.  Farting in bed produced the same results, and she would sometimes get uncontrollable fits of giggles.  For now their giggles simply broke the last remaining tension she felt.

“I didn’t even see what was on the table.” She said.  “Thank you for ordering it.”

“Chicken tikka masala and all the sides, but it’s probably cold now.” He said. 

“I’ll take it to work and reheat for lunch tomorrow.”

“What would you like me to order in? Anything you want.”

“I always get what I want.  I got you, didn’t I?” she mused.

“Yes.  Still trying to figure out how that happened.” He said, and he winked at her although she didn’t see it.

“BBQ chicken pizza. And some of those chicken wings.  And some garlic bread sticks.  Get an extra large.  I’m _really_ hungry.”

He picked up his phone on the bedside table and ordered pizza per her wish, and while they waited, he made love to her, and he let her know how much he cherished her and their unborn.

When the pizza arrived, he thought that perhaps it was the best pizza he’d ever eaten, but he knew it wasn’t the pizza.  It was the precious time with his wife.  It was the beginning of cherishing the last few months of time between them without children, and he was determined to treat every last day of being just the two of them as special.

He no longer believed that sentiment was a chemical defect.  Sherlock Holmes had become a very sentimental man in his own way, and he only saw that character trait growing in his private life.  And he liked it.


End file.
